


Transverse

by EchoShimmer



Series: What Makes Us Human [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alternate Universe - Alien Science, Alternate Universe - Wings, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Brotherly Bonding, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, City Under Quarantine, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Hypoglycemia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Police Violence, Jason Todd is Robin, Kid Tim Drake, No Man's Land, Pack Bonding, Platonic Relationships, Protective Jason Todd, Scents, Sort Of, Speciesism, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Wings & Tails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27965837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoShimmer/pseuds/EchoShimmer
Summary: Jason and Tim are alone in the middle of a Gotham in chaos. They have been caught up in a weird Alien explosion that somehow lead to them growing wings and tails among other changes, and are under attack from violent creatures and humans alike. Their mission: make it to a nearby safehouse, and ultimately to Wayne Manor. It won't be an easy trip, but they might just end up getting to know each other along the way.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: What Makes Us Human [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975990
Comments: 57
Kudos: 224





	1. Jason

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second fic in my What Makes Us Human series. For context's sake, I would recommend having read Permutation first. This story picks up directly afterwards.
> 
> This series as a whole does deal with some darker themes (there's a whole lot of worldbuilding to be had here hehe). I've gone ahead and tagged most of what I could think of in terms of warnings for this fic as a whole in advance so that you guys will know what to expect, even if it is a bit spoiler-y. Be safe with yourselves, 2020 is a rough year for everyone.
> 
> A note on Jason's Robin uniform: I decided that in this universe, a slightly older Jason with a slightly better relationship with Dick would have, at some point, come up with the revolutionary idea to switch out the classic Dick-era Robin uniform with one more similar to Tim’s original one, aka something with armored tights. If only because I don’t want this poor child walking through Gotham in nothing but boots and scaly panties (though it would be kind of ironic considering, heh, scales). He’s got enough to deal with as it is, I think.
> 
> Finally, I want to give a huge shoutout to [Moxibustion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuuzaKochou) for all of her help and encouragement coming up with worldbuilding concepts for this series. She's awesome, go check out her work if you haven't already <3

So… if Jason was being totally honest, he was still very much freaking out. There were, after all, a metric ton of things to process at the moment. 

Here he was, stranded alone in the middle of Gotham in a body that was distinctly, unfamiliarly  _ wrong _ , and he had somehow found himself in charge of an even younger kid in the same situation but minus the Robin training. They had no means of easy communication to home base, what with Jason’s Comm and Tim’s phone both destroyed while they were in the chrysalis-things. Neither of them were even wearing a freaking shirt after the whole growing wings and a tail and random other scales thing, with their pants and shoes otherwise in rough shape. Also, there were even weirder lizard-alien(?)-creatures running around that were distinctly unfriendly, and Jason  _ really _ didn’t want to end up facing one of them again if he could help it, especially with Tim here.

Every instinct Jason had, both from his Robin training and from what he presumed was the transformation’s influence, was urging him towards safety, home,  _ Bruce _ . For a moment Jason had almost given in to the urge to head back towards the docks where he had last seen Batman, in some sort of pointless hope that he would still be there even hours later. Jason had squashed down that pointless urge quickly. He knew the protocol here. If Robin was separated from Batman and unable to get in contact with any other Bats during a citywide emergency, his first priority was to head straight back to home base.

As it stood now, with no supplies and a whole extra person to plan for, making the miles-long journey through a city of unknown danger was basically impossible on foot, and it’s not like Jason had a grapple or the energy to carry Tim with him over the rooftops in the middle of the day. Luckily for them, Bruce was ridiculously paranoid, and in this case it worked out in Jason’s favor for once.

“Alright Timbo,” Jason started, gently tugging the kid’s arm (ignoring the smoothness of one of the kid’s scale spots under his fingers) to halt him before they left the relative safety of the alley he had woken up in. Tim’s nose wrinkled a bit in confusion at the nickname, but he nonetheless looked up at Jason attentively. The scent or pheromones or whatever that the kid was giving off were slightly calmer than at the start of their conversation, but still distinctly leaning towards stressed. Jason would keep an eye on that, he decided internally as the overly large blue eyes turned to him questioningly.

“Obviously like I said before we need to get to the Manor ASAP, but we’re far enough away that walking that far isn’t feasible. However, there  _ is _ a conveniently located safehouse around three miles north of here that should have some spare tech and a car to get us the rest of the way.”

“Do you think we can make it there?” Tim asked hesitantly. Then, a bit more incredulously, “You can drive?”

“I know how! I have my permit, and I’m set to get my license as soon as I turn 16,” Jason puffed up, a bit defensive before he remembered who he was talking to and toned it down. Luckily, Tim just blinked rather than startling, processing the information rather than the tone. Huh. “And besides, the streets are really empty right now. Even in this part of the city, we should have seen a couple cars go past by now. The entirety of Gotham must be on some sort of lockdown, so there most likely won’t be many people out. As long as we can avoid those lizard-things and any random people who might be out despite the lockdown we should be in the clear.”

Tim bit his lip slightly, eyebrows scrunching a bit in thought so that Jason could practically watch his brain ticking through the situation, before he nodded. “Alright, that makes sense. Let's do it,” Tim agreed, more somber than Jason would expect from someone his age. It made Jason kind of sad that the kid was in this mess, but it’s not like he could do anything right now besides make sure he kept Tim safe until whatever this was could be undone. And the best way to do that was to get the both of them to the Manor.

So they rounded the corner, Jason taking the lead.

\---

It doesn’t take long before they run into some issues with the plan. 

The sunlight was the first thing that really stood out to Jason, almost as soon as they left the shaded alleyway. It wasn’t even that bright out, this  _ was _ Gotham they were talking about, but the shifts in perception that Jason had noticed previously seemed to respond doubly so in the direct light, creating an almost painful feedback that left him slightly squinting. Glancing towards Tim when they first stepped onto the street had given Jason all the indication he needed to know that the younger boy was having the same issue.

By the time the pair reached the next block, though, it was clear that this wasn’t the only issue they would be contending with, because Jason was  _ hungry _ . And not the typical teenager and high-performance athlete who skipped a meal while unconscious type of hungry, mind you. No, this was a deeper, more encompassing hunger, as if he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks. He was  _ starving _ , in a way that he suspected was mostly due to the rapid physical changes that his body really hadn’t been meant to go through. It had been years since he felt like this, and they weren’t good memories. It was more distracting with each additional pang of hunger.

It wasn’t just his stomach either, rather it was his whole body that was aching. Sure, he kind of figured that some pain would be expected when one had recently sprouted new muscles and, like, entire limbs, but it seemed worse than that. Even the parts of him that he still hoped were relatively unchanged twinged with soreness, as if he’d just gone through B’s fitness regime for hours on end rather than just woken up and have a minor skirmish with a single hostile. 

By the end of the first block Jason was breathing way harder than he had any right to be. By the second, the exhaustion started to become less of a background awareness and more of a blaring alarm. His mouth was dry, the small adrenaline rush he had been under earlier crashed around him to leave him feeling rather shaky, but he stubbornly pushed through it. Jason was trained better than this, he could make it the remaining two-and-a-half miles to the relative safety of the safehouse before he crashed. He was  _ Robin _ .

It took only the slightest shift of scent in the air before Jason blinked through the haze of  _ so-tired-have-to-keep-going _ and was reminded of the fact that he wasn’t alone. Jason stopped walking abruptly, spinning around to look back at Tim, who was trying heroically to keep up while clearly wavering on his feet. His eyes were slightly unfocused, skin two shades paler than it had been earlier so that the garnet scale patches popped out vividly. Tim’s overly large wings and long tail were drooping noticeably as he moved forward single mindedly, even bumping into Jason’s chest with a slight  _ oof _ before he fully processed that the older boy had stopped. 

Well, shit. Jason instantly felt terrible for not having noticed that the kid was struggling sooner, especially when Tim just blinked at him in response to the sudden stop, trying to straighten up slightly when he realized that he was under observation. Of  _ course  _ Tim would be too stubborn and worried about getting in the way to speak up when he was literally about to drop, damn it. If Jason, with all his training, was this bad off, how terrible would Timbo be feeling right now? 

“Why’re we stopping? I can keep going,” Tim said, voice gravely and ever so slightly slurred.

Yeah, no, that's it. There's no way they’d be able to make the entire trek in one go. They needed a break, somewhere they could get food and water and maybe a short nap to wait away the midday sunlight. The slight delay now would be way worth it if they ran into another enemy on the way. As it was there was no way Jason would be able to do anything to defend them, and Tim honestly looked like he was about to pass out any second here.

_ You have to hide _ , Jason’s mind insisted. More of the weird instincts he had noticed urged him to hole up, to get Tim somewhere dark and quiet and safe, to get him food and water and let him sleep. Which- well, it was still extremely, spine-tinglingly weird that he could  _ feel _ this other, more instinctual side to his brain that definitely wasn’t there before, and it was really weird that he had apparently latched on to Tim to this degree, but he was really past caring enough to fight the voice that was basically just insisting that he take care of a most-likely neglected and very much alone child.

“I believe ya, kid, but with how crazy everything is and how exhausted we are- don’t argue, I can fu-, er,  _ freaking  _ smell how terrible you’re feeling- it will be way better in the long run if we take a break. The safehouse isn’t going anywhere.”

Jason took the opportunity to properly inspect his surroundings beyond cataloging that there weren’t any people around. The area they were in seemed to primarily be a business zone, with the occasional apartment complex thrown in a couple of streets down. This suited their needs well enough. Jason narrowed in on the small corner grocery store across the street with metal grating over the windows but a pick-able looking lock on the door and, decision made, quickly dragged Tim after him towards the door.

Sure enough, the basic lockpick that Jason kept tucked in a hidden pocket on his tights made fairly quick work of the door, and once he carefully propped it open there was no sign of alarms. Perfect. A slightly more aware and wide-eyed Tim was quickly bundled inside ahead of Jason, who turned around and re-locked the door behind them. They’d have some warning if anyone else tried to get in, this way. It was as safe of a place as they were going to get.

The store was really small. Jason’s altered eyes were easily able to scan over the layout even in the half-light that filtered through the security bars over the main window. A single free standing shelf running down the middle parallel to the front, the register pushed into the back corner out of sight of the front door, a small cooler for drinks beside it. Following his instincts both trained and recently acquired, Jason ushered Tim further in, checking briefly behind the register desk to make  _ extra _ sure that they were the only ones here.

“This will work,” he declared with a grin, ignoring Tim’s slightly concerned glance from where the kid was eyeing the array of food options. It was mostly junk, sure, but it was  _ something _ , and that was really the important thing right now. “Let's grab some food and water, Timbo. We can bunk down behind the counter for a bit, probably take a nap before we keep going.”

Tim only hesitated for a moment, probably fighting against the urge to steal, before the longing won out and he moved shakily towards the fridge and started piling as many water bottles as physically possible into his small arms. Jason in turn focused his attention towards the array of protein bars and fruit snacks, figuring that was about as good as they were going to get nutrition-wise. After a bit of thought he grabbed some stuff with a distinctly higher sugar percentage, deciding he and Tim deserved it after all this craziness. Alfred would forgive him for going off of his meal plan this once.

They both met up again at the register counter, Jason boosting Tim over when the younger’s arms proved a bit too shaky, kindly not mentioning how brightly Tim blushed at needing the help. Instead, Jason just passed his spoils back towards Tim before hauling himself over after him. He was surprised at how much the lingering anxiety dissipated now that they were in a relatively safe position, but his stomach quickly pulled him away from analyzing that much further. 

Tim was already desperately chugging down a bottle of water, slowing down some once Jason noticed what he was doing and poked at him in warning. The two boys set onto the food like a swarm of locusts. Despite Jason’s niggling concern that their bodies might reject the sudden influx of food, no problems ever arose. It’s not like this was a normal case of malnutrition, he supposed, considering that Jason  _ had _ just had a large dinner the previous night before patrol. Still, he was relieved when there were no signs of their bodies rejecting the sudden calories. 

Instead, less than half an hour later, both boys were pleasantly full and hydrated, and Tim was drooping where he sat awkwardly hunched on one corner. Oh, he was certainly trying to hide it, probably intending to insist that they continued on right away, but Jason could see the subtle heaviness of his eyelids and bobbing of his head. Naptime for the Timbo it was, then.

“Feel free to pass out for a bit, Timmy. We’re gonna stay here for a few hours to get some energy back,” only earned Jason a calculating glance and a small nod.

Of course, despite the advantages of food and drink and relative safety, the grocery store wasn’t exactly the most comfortable spot for  _ sleeping _ . The only saving grace was that someone had, at some point, brought in a rug for behind the register, which meant they weren’t just sitting on tile (though Jason was trying very hard not to think about how dirty the material probably was). It wasn’t a big area, though, especially with the added space their wings took up. The recently added limbs reached down far enough that the boys couldn’t fold in all the way when sitting on the floor like this. As such, it was rather awkward to position themselves comfortably, especially when Tim seemed intent on making himself as awkwardly small and out of the way in the corner as he physically could. 

Again, Jason was hit by that sense of  _ wrongness _ from Tim’s mannerisms. The urge to take care of him until that tension in his shoulders drained away to contentment. Was this what older family members felt? Was this how Dick and Bruce and Alfred felt about him all the time? It was kind of exhausting to worry about another person this much.

“C’mere,” Jason said after a minute of watching Tim struggling to get comfortable when contorted so awkwardly against the furthest wall. When Tim just blinked at him in confusion, Jason sighed and repositioned himself a bit. “You look really uncomfortable curled up like that, Timbo. Just come over here and use my lap as a pillow or something, I won’t mind, especially if it helps you recover faster.”

Tim straightened up a bit, as if trying to hide how uncomfortable his current spot actually was. He looked at Jason suspiciously, but hidden below that Jason could make out the edge of longing. “Are you sure? I’m fine on my own,” Tim insisted, knees pulling in a bit more.

“Yeah, of course,” Jason said simply, resisting the urge to comment on Tim’s reaction. “I’m the one who offered, aren’t I?”

After another moment under Tim’s calculating stare, the kid finally shifted around and more or less crawled the short distance over, wings tucked tightly against his body. Once within arm’s reach he sat back on his heels, as if unsure of how to proceed. Jason, still sitting calmly with his back against the wall and legs stretched out, patted his thigh invitingly.

“C’mon Timmy, one human pillow at your service. Who knows what's going to happen later today, might as well get some rest while ya can.” Jason considered the kid for a moment, Tim looking slightly dazed all the while, before he gently prompted again. “Laying on your side is probably gonna be the most comfortable, all things considered. ”

_ Finally _ , after a decent amount of shifting around to sort out all the stray limbs, Tim was properly lying down, and slowly losing tension in his shoulders as time passed and nothing unexpected happened. Considering how jumpy the kid was, Jason heroically resisted the urge to run a hand through the smaller boy’s hair like Dick or Bruce would have for him. His tail, however, somehow ended up wrapped gently around Tim’s ankle when Jason wasn’t paying attention to it. Jason internally cursed the instinctive move, worried about how Tim might react, but luckily the kid just relaxed even more at the contact, finally slipping into proper sleep. At that, Jason found himself unwinding a bit as well.

It was soothing there, in a way, despite the dire circumstances. The small, warm body of the kid Jason had somehow ended up caring for nestled trustingly against his and let off a content, sleepy scent that as always was tinged with the edge that Jason was increasingly associating as… family? A pack member? Sibling-cub? It was less of a word and more of a feeling, the urge to care for and protect beyond what he should logically feel for a kid he had just met. The distant hum of the refrigerated box and the dark and moderate temperature of the shop added to the feeling. 

Even though Jason initially had every intention of staying stubbornly awake to keep watch, the pull of exhaustion in his bones was strong. Only a few minutes after Tim had fully drifted off, Jason found his own eyes growing heavy. It was only shortly thereafter that Jason followed Tim into dreamland, finally getting some much needed rest.


	2. Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey towards the safehouse continues, with a couple of obstacles along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with chapter 2! Originally I wasn't going to post this until I had written chapter 4, but I decided to ignore that in celebration of finishing off finals for the semester. All the comments and kudos on the first chapter were very nice to read in the middle of arguably the most stressful finals week of my life, so I figured you all deserve this in thanks :)
> 
> This is the chapter where that canon-typical gun violence warning is applicable. If you're worried about that for whatever reason stop reading around when you reach the short (three paragraph) jump into Jason's POV. I'll stick a brief summary of that last section in the end notes.
> 
> That's all the notes I've got for now. Enjoy the chapter :)

Tim didn’t know how long it had been before he was blinking his eyes open again, pulled awake by the hand shaking his shoulder and the hum of the voice coming from somewhere above his head.

“C’mon Timmers, we need to get going now if we want to be somewhere safer before dark.” The voice was strangely familiar, settling into Tim’s mind in a way that registered as  _ family-protector-safe _ . It takes another few seconds of blinking blearily into the half-light against the sleepy pull of the warmth beneath his cheek and along his back before Tim’s brain finally rebooted enough to remember where he was and who he was with.

He bolted upright, almost knocking heads with the other boy in his haste to right himself as everything came back to him. Following Robin over the rooftops, even almost getting caught at one point, on his quest to take pictures. The explosion that had thrown him backwards, knocking him out. Waking up hours later in a chrysalis, his body changed, camera and cell phone destroyed. Spotting Robin in a neighboring alleyway, and jumping in to scare off the honestly terrifying creature that had cornered him, acting purely off of luck and the instinct that  _ Robin could not be hurt _ . 

Robin-  _ Jason _ -, who had been transformed as well. Who, when Tim had slipped up and revealed his greatest secret, had insisted that Tim come with him to the manor no matter how much Tim had pointed out that he was fine on his own. Jason, who had decided for Tim’s sake (because there was no doubt in Tim’s mind that the older boy could have kept walking if he was alone) to stop in the middle of their very important mission for food and water and a nap, before insisting that Tim  _ rest with his head on Jason’s lap _ . Looking back, Tim was distantly horrified that Jason had talked him into it. He was supposed to be so much more self sufficient than this. But Tim had been tired, and Jason’s scent and voice had been so calming, and he had  _ offered _ -

“Timmy?” Jason asked hesitantly, snapping Tim out of his spiraling thoughts. “Are you alright kid?”

Tim frowned at the weird nicknames Robin- _ Jason _ \- seemed so fond of, and forced himself to focus a bit more on the present. He distantly noticed as his wings and tail (and wasn’t  _ that _ a whole other thing) shifted slightly on their own, adjusting to his balance and seemingly to his mood as he stood up quickly, sliding out from under the crimson tail that had wrapped around his ankle at some point. 

The small movements in the new limbs were instinctive, unless he focused on them. It was weird to think about the logistics behind this whole transformation thing. It was undoubtedly alien-adjacent, but was it purely biological or was there some sort of magical-

No, he had to focus. He could get answers later, once they had reached the Batcave. Where Batman was waiting. That was their primary mission, focus on that. He couldn’t be a burden to  _ Robin  _ of all people.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tim insisted quickly once he noticed that he had taken a beat too long to respond. “I have a lot more energy now, let's get going.” Tim suspected that Jason didn’t fully believe him, based on the quick flash of emotion and slight edge to his scent that the younger boy couldn’t identify. Nonetheless, the taller boy followed Tim to his feet, taking a moment to almost  _ casually  _ stretch out his shoulders and wings as he went as if  _ any  _ of this was normal.

“Alright then, let’s get cracking,” Jason said simply, giving Tim a small grin as he boosted himself easily over the counter they had been sheltered behind. Tim scrambled after him, certainly less smoothly than the vigilante but successful in the maneuver nonetheless. He then trailed resolutely after Jason as the older boy cautiously cracked the door open and peered suspiciously out at the street beyond, his crimson wings intentionally or not slightly flared in a way that blocked most of Tim’s vision. 

“It looks like we’re clear,” Jason declared before stepping out of their temporary safe haven. Then, under his breath like he didn’t intend Tim to hear, “Damn, it’s still really bright out.”

Tim was inclined to agree with that sentiment as he slipped fully out of the store. Along with all the more obvious changes, Tim had noticed early on after he woke that his vision was distinctly more sensitive to light then it should have been. A few hours previous, the direct sunlight combined with the dehydration and general exhaustion had been enough to set his head pounding. Thankfully the rest and water, alongside an increase in cloud cover, has now dulled the effect from painful to a bright flare effect that sort of reminded Tim of an overexposed photograph. Though much more manageable, it was far from ideal in a situation where keeping careful track of their surroundings was important. They couldn’t move safely during the day like this, and Tim could tell that the weakness was putting Jason slightly on edge.

“Maybe we can find some sunglasses, or something?” Tim suggested, resisting the urge to jump when Jason turned around to blink at him in mild surprise, eyes ever so slightly squinted.

“That’s actually a great idea, kid,” Jason said after a moment of thought, and Tim was then forced to push back a wave of warmth instead of anxiety. He  _ was  _ helping! He and Robin were working together! If Tim’s muscles didn’t have the lingering soreness that they did he would have been inclined to think he was dreaming. But, no. This was actually his life right now.

Jason took a moment to glance around the nearby stores, as if orienting himself, before he grabbed Tim’s arm and gently tugged him along towards the closest place that appeared to have clothing. He nudged Tim until his back was against the wall by the entrance before setting the majority of his focus towards the store’s locked door, not commenting on Tim’s mild confusion at his treatment or the reason why his wings were held half-unfurled, again partially blocking TIm from view.

The older boy was being very… hands on, Tim thought. More than he had been earlier, even. Far more than Tim was used to. Was it just a vigilante stress response to want to keep the smaller civilian within reach during a potentially dangerous situation, or was Jason just more tactile by nature? Tim wasn’t sure. The weird new instincts in  _ Tim’s  _ mind certainly liked the moments of contact and general feeling of protection, but Jason had also likely spent a lot of time around Dick Grayson since Bruce had adopted him, so it could really go either way. 

Tim wasn’t about to go and point out that it was happening and risk Jason pulling back again, even if it was selfish of him to withhold gathered data on their situation. The warm brushes of skin and the lingering content buzz under his skin was too precious of a treat to give up, especially when they were coming from his hero.

Within a minute the lock was clicking open and Jason huffed in satisfaction as he pulled the door open.

“After you, Timbo,” was accompanied by a light tap on the shoulder, and Tim followed the instruction without complaint. Jason took one last glance out at the still empty street before he slipped in after Tim, closing the door behind him. As was the case with the grocery store previously, Tim’s eyes adjust easily to the dimmer lighting, picking out details of his surroundings much easier than he would normally expect considering the few windows. The sensitivity to light certainly worked in their favor on this side of the equation.

The clothing store was considerably larger than the little corner grocery store had been, and it was decently stocked with items for a range of weather conditions and prices. It was very different then the high-end formal wear shops Tim’s parents had dragged him to for fittings in the past. He again felt a little weird, breaking into empty stores alongside Robin with the intent to steal, but they had  _ really  _ needed the food, and the sunglasses would be a big help. It’s not like they were taking that much, and knowing Bruce Wayne he would find a way to pay for any Batman-related damages like he always did, so Tim tried to push down the guilt.

Jason looked over the layout appraisingly and made a beeline towards a display counter with a small array of sunglasses, muttering under his breath and sorting through them. Tim could tell from a distance that the options were rather limited. With Gotham’s usual cloudy haze, the item was usually worn more for aesthetics rather than necessity. Really they were lucky that a store like this carried any.

By the time that Tim had caught up with Jason, the older boy had already settled a pair on the top of his head, not yet over his eyes, and he turned to look at Tim with a slightly smaller pair in either hand. Jason held them up as if to judge how they would fit before abruptly (and yet nonetheless accurately) slipping one of them onto Tim’s face. Tim let out a startled squeak that could almost be called a laugh as his vision tinted darker, and he ducked out of range before moving to shove the lenses higher on his head in a mirror of Jason’s.

“These should be dark enough to help,” Tim observed as he ignored the automatic blush at his lapse in professionalism.

“It’s better than nothing, at least,” Jason agreed with a small smile, then his eyebrows scrunched slightly in thought. “More of a wrap around style like we use sometimes while undercover would have been nice but options are limited so these will have to work for now. If we’re lucky there will be some stored at the safehouse, or else we’ll have to track some down after we reach the Cave.”

Tim’s chest tightened slightly at the reminder of where they were ultimately heading. Wayne Manor, and more specifically the secret Batcave underneath it. Meeting and working with Robin was one thing, but the fact that Tim was likely a short time away from facing down Batman himself on his own turf was a whole other level of things-Tim-never-thought-he-would-do. The thought of the impending conversation sent a small shiver down Tim’s spine, his wings automatically curling in to press the warm scales against his back. He hoped that Jason hadn’t noticed.

“Are we ready to go, then?” he asked in an attempt at distraction. But Jason  _ had _ noticed the shiver, though he didn’t realize the cause of the discomfort if his sudden frown at Tim’s bare chest was any indication. His eyes then flicked down to his own poor state of dress. With everything else going on neither of them seemed to have really focused on the lack of shirts. The tails at least sat high enough that their pants weren’t damaged, and Tim’s sneakers and Robin’s boots were more or less intact. There had been bigger issues than a lack of full clothing. But now that those bigger issues had been dealt with, it was clear that Jason was suddenly all too aware of how they looked, and he didn’t like it.

“Damn it, I should have thought about this more earlier, just dragging you with me through Gotham when we’re not even fully dressed, what the hell.” Jason started mumbling under his breath, pausing for a moment with his eyebrows scrunched as he thought, before he seemed to come up with something. He looked at Tim seriously, expression all Robin. 

“Go check the register counter, see if they have anything we can cut fabric with over there and bring what you find back here. I’m going to go find something that I won’t feel bad cutting up. We’re gonna have to DIY this a bit, but it will be better than wandering around shirtless.”

With that proclamation, Jason turned and disappeared among the clothes, heading deeper into the store. Tim blinked after him, the automatic response telling Jason not to bother and that he was fine died on his tongue. Instead of bothering to protest into the empty air, Tim just moved to do as instructed, following the wall back to the register counter. After a bit of poking around in the drawers that Tim could access without trying to pick any locks, Tim came away with a somewhat dull looking boxcutter. Figuring it was better than nothing, Tim made his way back to the agreed on meeting point.

Jason, it seemed, had had a bit more success than Tim, considering that he was carrying a bundle of soft, if a bit cheap looking, black t-shirts roughly in his and Tim’s size. He had also acquired a pair of grey sweatpants that he had slipped on over his Robin tights, hiding the distinctive green fabric from view. When Jason caught sight of Tim’s discovery, he grinned, the sight of Robin smiling like that automatically warming Tim’s chest.

“Sweet, that should work well enough on these. Get over here, I’ll show you what I’m thinking.”

Together, they carefully worked to make the shirts workable around their wings. Jason did Tim’s first, analytically holding the fabric up to Tim’s back to judge the distance between Tim’s wings before making two neat slices up the back from the bottom hem of the shirt up to roughly the height where Tim’s wings started. When Tim slipped the shirt on, Jason even more carefully adjusted the cuts to stretch a bit higher, allowing the shirt to sit more comfortably. 

They decided to just leave the central piece of fabric between the slits where it was, letting it hang down between Tim’s wings for the extra bit of skin coverage. The shirt didn’t sit perfectly against his back with the width of their wings to contend with. Technically, they could have actually removed some fabric around their wings to widen the slits and fix that, but after a bit of testing the fit they decided it wasn’t worth the effort. However, they  _ did _ use one of the extra, larger shirts to cut out strips to tie around Tim’s waist like a high-sitting belt to keep the fabric from flaring out as much when he moved. Overall, it was a decent enough solution that they both agreed would work for now.

Then it was Tim’s turn to mirror the process on Jason, meticulously making the needed adjustments as the taller boy crouched down in front of him, apparently trusting Tim enough to present his back when Tim was holding a potential weapon. The open trust made Tim anxious, as did the fact that his lack of experience with cutting fabric or even using knives in general meant that the slits down Jason’s shirt were much less precise than Tim’s had been, but the end result came out well enough, and Jason didn’t comment on the slight shake in Tim’s hands. The older boy consistently projected calm through his body language and scent.

Satisfied with their success (and after Jason ruffling Tim’s hair left him a bit flustered for a few seconds) they returned the extra supplies. Now more or less properly dressed, the duo once again made their way out to the street, locking the door behind them. The sunglasses did a lot to block out the excess light, and Tim was surprised by how much the improved vision and the fact that he was now more properly clothed put him at ease as the pair traveled. 

Although, the ease in Tim’s nerves might have just been due to the fact that Jason seemed so much calmer than the first two times they had been out in the open. The older boy was clearly still on watch for danger, keeping a constant scan over their surroundings and not-so-discreetly staying within arms reach of Tim at all times, but overall the increased visibility and thin protection of modesty seemed to do a lot to ease the tension in his shoulders and the harsh edges to his scent. His calm in turn soothed that niggling edge of fear that lingered in Tim’s brain, and overall the walk through the eerily empty city was made all the better for it.

Of course, the decrease in stress over their situation just served to give Tim more time to ruminate over the fact that he was just casually working side by side with  _ Robin _ , which was a whole different can of worms. Every time their arms or wings or tails accidentally brushed each other sent a wave of tingles through Tim’s skin. Tim wasn’t used to casual contact like this, nor was he accustomed to hanging out with people near his own age for any stretch of time. It just gave him a whole different brand of nerves.

They were walking quietly right now. Should Tim try and start a conversation? No, that was a stupid idea. They were better off staying quiet in case the weird creature that had attacked them earlier had friends that were attracted by sound. Plus, Jason might think that talking to Tim was annoying. Tim’s parents certainly preferred him to stay quiet most of the time. Jason kept sort of catching his eye every few minutes and smiling slightly at him. Was that to be taken as approval? If so, then the professional silence was probably the best option, right? It was all so confusing.

That spiraling train of thought lasts Tim for around the first mile and a half of what Jason claimed was the two-and-a-half or so mile trip before they reached… wherever this safehouse was supposed to be. Around that point is when Tim spotted the tall, rectangular, somewhat damaged but nonetheless recognizable box sitting outside of a building up ahead. Before he had even fully processed it, he was speaking.

“There’s a payphone up ahead, maybe we could try and call the Manor from there?”

Instantly Tim found himself preparing for a sharp retort, either for the silly suggestion when they were already so close to the safehouse or just for speaking in general. Jason had already mentioned before that there would be a way to contact the other Bats at the safehouse, stopping now would just be an unnecessary and dangerous waste of time. Robin didn’t want to hear Tim’s random, spur of the moment ideas. He was going to make a bad impression if he kept blurting out things like that!

Jason didn’t snap at him for speaking up, though. Rather, he slowed to a stop, tilting his head slightly in consideration. The older boy’s eyes flickered over to Tim for a moment, and his heart stuttered with nerves when those blue-green eyes narrowed ever so slightly in his direction. But the expression was shuttered away as soon as it appeared, replaced with that bright Robin grin as he loosely grabbed Tim’s wrist and tugged him further forward.

“Yeah, we could definitely try it! The sooner that B and Alfie hear that we’re alright, the better really. They tend to worry a lot when I go MIA like this. Though, I’ll be honest, I’ve never used one of these things before. Don’t we need money for the, you know, paying part?” Jason seemed to not be angry, and there was genuine interest in his questioning, so Tim proceeded cautiously, trying to not give away that he honestly wasn’t sure either.

“I know they usually take coins… but I think sometimes there’s a way that the recipient can accept the charges instead? I know I read about something like that somewhere... Maybe there’s instructions inside?”

By this point they had reached the outside of the booth. Jason nudged the door open, eyeing the edges of the long-broken windows and the lack of glass currently on the ground before pushing Tim in ahead of him. The extra space his wings took up meant that Jason was relegated to stand half-in-half-out of the small space, and Tim tried not to feel guilty about that, for some reason. The door remained pointedly wide open behind them as Tim squinted at the weather-worn page that may have once explained how to make a call. 

\---

In his distraction, Tim didn’t fully register the distant approach of a car, the first they had seen that wasn’t parked and abandoned on the street since they first awoke to a world changed. It was Jason that lifted his head, eye catching the blue gleam as it approached, and he was instantly struck with a sense of wariness. That car was far too new and expensive to be found anywhere near this part of Gotham, and it was driving far too slowly. Something was off there.

“Tim?” he prompted his younger ally, trying to catch his attention without immediately throwing him into panic. The garnet-scaled boy didn’t react beyond a hum, distracted by the mystery of the payphone in front of him. 

Jason eyed the car as it drew closer, noting the lowered windows, the hum of multiple male voices that he could just make out from this distance. There was a sudden spike of sound, followed by silence as the car got within a couple hundred feet of them, enough that the boys could have been easily spotted with how Jason was wedged half out in the open, crimson wings stark against the dreary Gotham backdrop. Jason’s entire being lurched with sudden, nearly debilitating panic as the sunlight reflected off of something just inside the car window.

They were-

\---

“Down!” Jason ordered sharply, and Tim was snapped out of his haze of concentration as the older boy tugged roughly on the back of Tim’s shirt, pulling him down by force as Jason himself dropped. Vulnerable wings and tails tucked in instinctively as the first shot cut across the formerly silent street, bullet passing somewhere above their heads as Tim yelped and curled up tighter. It was rapidly followed by another two shots before Tim had even managed to fully process what was going on.

The world simultaneously snapped into hyperfocus and dissolved into a haze as Tim’s thoughts reeled in shock. He was aware of the semi-familiar,  _ anxious-scared-protective  _ scent that flooded the area around him, the slightly shaky hands that pulled him demandingly out of the enclosed space and bundled him around the outside wall ahead of the larger body until they were both huddled perilously behind the structure as shots continued to sound, accompanied now by voices that Tim’s brain didn’t have the space to process currently.

Hands were on him again, spinning him around to face his companion-  _ Robin-  _ before warm palms were pressed gently on either side of his face, drawing Tim’s wide eyes up to meet Robin’s. He was distantly aware of the atypical presence of claws against his skin, present but not causing pain or indicative of more danger. Tim was barely aware that his own claws were instinctively unsheathed, or that his wings were pressed tight against his back or that his tail was twined close around his legs or his rapid, shaky breathing. There was only the harsh fire of bullets and the overwhelming sense of  _ fear  _ that had flooded him at the first shot.

In all his years following the Bats, Tim had never been directly in the line of fire. He had never been spotted by the enemy of the night, and he had always been either high up enough or would have a solid wall to duck behind if things got dangerous. Now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do about it. Everything was too loud, too overwhelming. 

Robin’s voice managed to cut through the haze, drawing Tim’s attention with his words and grounding touch. Tim knew that he had to listen to him, that Robin would protect him from those who wished both of them harm. He was Robin,  _ Jason _ , and that would always be enough for Tim. He did his best to focus on that voice, to block out everything else.

“Listen, Tim,  _ listen _ . It will be okay, just focus on me, alright? Trust me. When I say run, you have to book it to that entrance, alright? There’s a brick alcove around the door for cover, and I’ll get us inside. It’s safer. I’ll be right behind you, Tim!” There’s a slight hitch in the coming shots, the only warning before the few seconds of blessed silence, with a couple of distant clicks. The shooter (shooters?) had to reload, some distant part of Tim’s brain realized. 

“Go!” Jason hissed, and Tim found himself responding, somehow having managed to get his legs underneath him. Tim bolts across the twenty-foot open gap faster than he ever had moved in his  _ life _ , and he didn’t slow down at all before crashing straight into the half-sheltered door. Jason was less than a half-second behind, wrapping his body half around Tim’s without crushing him as he straight up  _ slammed _ his larger form against the door, somehow already with lockpicks in hand before it was even obvious that the lock was too sturdy for either of them to force open otherwise.

They had a few seconds of leeway now, with the brick wall directly between them and the car full of enemies. Just the amount of time it would take the enemies to pull the vehicle forward enough for them to get an unobstructed firing line again. The time ticking by feels years long and way too short. Tim thinks he sees just a hint of obnoxiously blue metal peeking around the corner before there's a click above his head and Tim is being bodily shoved through the barely open door and into the landing beyond, Jason stumbling after him. The heavy door is only half closed before the first bullet pings against its surface, but no projectiles find their way in before it’s slamming shut, putting a solid barrier between them and the outside world. 

Jason is next to Tim again, curling around Tim where he is huddled shakily against the wall, the older boy’s large crimson wings half-spread instinctively to block out the outside world and his scent emanating a wall of stress-determined-protect. Tim soaks in the offered assurance, the warmth of the protective hold, and he shakes, coming down slightly from the panic now that they’re ever so slightly safer. 

There’s a window high above their heads, the glass panes broken or otherwise open to the elements. Tim can’t see it, but he can hear the sounds that echo through the brick hall from outside. There are one or two shots after the door has closed, before the voices devolve into angry shouting instead. Words Tim can’t fully follow the logic behind, things like  _ monsters, animals, freaks _ . Jason’s hold tightens ever so slightly at the vitriol there.

And Tim… he doesn’t understand what he and Jason did to deserve this anger. Was it all just because of the scales? Gotham didn’t have the best history with non-humans, sure, but they were just  _ kids _ , they were just trying to get  _ home _ , why would they-

Tim didn’t know, and thinking about it longer brought him no answers. He and Jason simply weathered the storm in silence.

Eventually, the angry voices died down, quieting to a barely audible conversation before the car revved and drove away. Eventually, Jason relaxed his position ever so slightly, letting down his guard just that little bit, shifting a bit so that he was leaning heavily against the wall rather than hunching over Tim. Tim was glad that Jason never fully released his hold on Tim as he did so, the younger boy still distinctly shaken. The older boy’s tail had, at some point, wrapped tightly around Tim’s wrist, the smaller boys’ wrapped around Jason’s ankle in turn as if they needed the added reassurance that the other was okay.

There was no scent of blood in the air. All the increased sensitivity to their senses considered, Tim was almost certain he would smell it if one of them was badly bleeding. He clung to that thought. Neither of them were injured. They would be okay. His breath stuttered slightly again, and Jason shuddered slightly in turn, pulling Tim tighter against him in response.

“We’re okay,” Jason said aloud, his voice atypically shaky for Robin. “They’re gone. It’s going to be alright, Timmy.”

The two stayed close, soaking in the fact that they had both somehow escaped relatively unharmed as breathing eased and trembling muscles settled in the aftermath. Eventually they would have to rise, would have to make it the remaining two blocks to the safehouse. The coast was clear again. But for a few minutes, neither boy made any effort to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skip summary: A car of unknown individuals open fire on Tim and Jason. They manage to get behind the phone booth, and then break into an apartment building for better shelter without either of them being seriously injured. The attackers shout insults at them for a bit before eventually driving away. Tim and Jason stay put for a while, comforting each other as they reassure themselves that neither of them are hurt.  
> \---  
> I had to do it, guys. It's for the worldbuilding, I promise.
> 
> Come back next time, where we finally get to hear more from another of our beloved characters. I wonder who it could be?


	3. Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys finally finish the first part of their journey, conversations are had, and new information is gleaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas for those who celebrate (and a good day in general to those who do not). This chapter... should not have taken so long, oops. I was going to wait until I finished writing the whole thing to post more, but apparently once school ended my brain decided it was done working hard, and instead I've spent most of the last week binge reading through as many fics. Dang are there a lot of good writers on AO3, shout out to all of you who give us the gift of words.
> 
> But yeah, it's been long enough I decided to just post this now. Chapter four is... around halfway done I think? It's hard for me to judge because sometimes scenes just explode in length and all the sudden it's been five pages and I'm still on the same conversation. But! My hard goal is to finish this before new years so I can flip gears and start working on Laz!Tim a bit before school starts in around a month. So the wait shouldn't be *too* long... heh.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

It was a while before Jason and Tim could bring themselves to crack open the door and venture back onto the street. The sound of the car driving away had faded into the distance almost half an hour before, but both of them were paranoid that they could just be circling around, or that they could ditch the car and come back on foot. Neither of them felt up to blindly wandering around the apartment complex they’d broken into in hope of finding another exit before they ran into another person. Jason wasn’t about to lead Timmy into danger if he could help it, and he was woefully unequipped for dealing with idiots with guns at the moment. Tim was already stressed enough without Jason getting himself shot.

Luckily for them, their eventual cautious exit revealed no enemies lying in wait. The street was as empty as it had been the hours previous. After waiting hesitantly in the protection of the door alcove for a few more minutes to ensure that it was  _ really _ safe Jason tersely led the way down the remaining three blocks to the safehouse. They stayed closer to the buildings this time, Jason’s eyes flickering as he tersely scanned the street for danger, logging potential exit routes in case someone was to appear.

Jason kept a careful grip on Tim’s hand the whole time, even more unwilling than before to let him stray too far from Jason’s side. He could tell how shaken up the younger boy was just by the fact that Tim didn’t say a word to complain. His scent, slightly bitter from stress, lingered in the back of Jason’s throat as a reminder, as if he could ever forget.

He would keep Tim safe.

Eventually they passed by the front of a familiar building, mostly indistinguishable from all of the other apartment buildings on the block unless you were Bat-trained and knew what to look for. No more enemies, human or not, had appeared on the last stretch of their journey. Jason could feel his shoulders relax minutely as the pair slipped into the neighboring alleyway. Finally, they had made it to the safehouse. They had done it.

Tim looked distinctly confused by the location as Jason stopped in the middle of the dead-end alley and squinted at a seemingly innocuous brick wall that was so similar to all the others across Gotham. It took a few seconds of searching for Jason to find the small detail he was looking for, considering this safehouse wasn’t one they popped in on regularly. In that timeframe the younger boy built up the impatience to ask, even as his wings curled in on himself and his scent spiked with nerves like he was expecting rebuke for questioning things.

“Why are we-” Tim cut off the question as Jason pressed a thumb against a random brick in the wall, and after a moment a soft  _ ding _ sounded from somewhere behind the surface. A door, previously hidden perfectly flush along the wall, suddenly slid in and to the side. Lights flicked on to reveal a set of stairs leading down to under the building. 

One of the many advantages to Wayne Enterprises buying and renovating old buildings around Gotham was that it was really easy for a certain CEO-turned-vigilante to hide details like this from everyone but a few trusted (and legally bound) contractors. They could set up the basics without asking questions, and the Bats could come in later to outfit the joint properly. Bam, new hidden safehouse.

Not  _ all _ of the Bats’ safehouses could be this hidden and elaborate, of course. There were some that were just apartments or storefronts B bought under an alias, or just a hidden alcove of extra supplies on a rooftop. Really the ones like this were more like bunkers or secondary bases than anything. But Bruce was always happy to come up with more contingencies for things that could go wrong. What do you know, this one was about to make itself properly useful.

“Oh,” Tim breathed out quietly, eyes wide. Jason grinned at the surprised, almost awed expression on the smaller boy's face before he led the way inside. The door closed noiselessly behind them as they made their way down into the bunker, motion-activated lights leading them down. Both boys wordlessly pushed their sunglasses up on top of their head once the brighter outdoor light cut off, comfortable enough in the dimmer lit interior.

The stairs let out into a small lounge area and kitchen, which Tim studied with wide eyes. Jason glanced over the layout himself, comparing it against his distant memories of the place. The hallway to one side that he knew led into a couple of basic bedrooms and a decent bathroom. The kitchen would be stocked with nonperishables. One of the closet doors hid basic cleaning supplies for when they might be needed, the other hid stairs down to the second sublevel, the part of the bunker that was distinctly more vigilante-oriented.

There were spare weapons down there. A small medbay and lab setup for if they couldn’t return to the Cave for whatever reason. A stash of a few vehicles to get around Gotham with. More importantly though, at the moment, was the spare bits of technology that would be housed down there. The urge to call home and report in, to ensure that his family was safe, was digging into Jason’s attention, urging him forward above all else now. So he moved towards the second floor of the safehouse, Tim trailing behind like an overwhelmed puppy if puppies seemed to get excited about vigilante stuff.

Once freed of the second set of stairs, Jason crossed the room towards the storage area. He thought for a moment before pulling out one of the spare Comm’s, figuring that that would be how everyone would expect Robin to initiate contact, like he would have if his Comm hadn’t been destroyed earlier. Tim watched curiously as Jason pressed a button to turn the device on before slotting it into his ear and tapping in the pattern that would sync to the Cave’s channel.

Only a steady, repeating series of beeps meets his ear when it connects. Jason’s heart sank a bit at the sound. That particular code is one he’d never gotten for real before. The Cave was under a full, no-contact-allowed lockdown. Another couple of taps confirmed that Batgirl’s subsystem set-up was equally inaccessible, at least not from a Bat frequency.

That was… not really a promising sign.

Jason hadn’t expected this response. This level of lockdown wouldn’t have happened just due to the system being disabled by whatever alien-induced chaos was happening in the city. This was a someone-in-the-Cave-is-compromised-stay-away warning. Had something happened to Alfred, or Bruce? Both of them? Some sort of mind control, or illness? Jason really  _ really _ hoped that at least someone was alright. He didn’t know if he would be able to hold it together as was.

A tiny, impatient movement from Timmy reminded Jason that he had an audience who was watching him for clues as to what was happening. He couldn’t just sink into the panic, he had a kid to take care of. Poor kid had had a terrible enough day as it was. So Jason just took a subtle, calming breath and pulled the Comm out of his ear, flicking it back off without looking at it.

“The Comm system is offline,” Jason said simply, trying his best to not indicate that this was at all worrying. 

“What could cause that? Are they alright?” Tim asked. Damn, that kid was way too perceptive. Or was Jason’s scent giving away that he was stressed despite his best efforts? A question to be solved another time.

“It could be a lot of things, hard to know for sure,” was all Jason said in answer. He spun around quickly, tossing the Comm semi-gently back from whence it came and instead reaching for a different storage bin with a couple of smallish rectangular boxes. “Luckily, that’s not our only option for contacting the Manor.” 

B sure might be an over-paranoid, emotionally constipated idiot, but damn if his overplanning isn’t useful sometimes.

“It’s a WayneTech phone,” Tim observed as Jason fought the box to get the dang phone out. The backup phones were always more in the basic range, not any of the fancy top-of-the-line smartphones. That would be a waste of money and technology for something that honestly might never be used. But this one would still be able to get a call through, and that was the most important thing.

Or at least, that's what Jason had assumed, until he had turned the thing on and was left staring blankly at the top right corner of the display screen, halting his mission to open the call menu.

“The phone’s not connected to anything. We don’t have any data.” 

Okay, so Jason’s control over his panic might have begun slipping a little. Of all the times for Bruce’s paranoia to forget something- 

Shockingly, it was Tim who seemed to be holding it together all the sudden. After a few seconds where he started to mirror Jason’s panic, he tugged the phone gently from Jason’s hand to inspect it himself. Tim studied the screen for a moment before somewhat awkwardly maneuvering through a few Settings screens, obviously not used to a non-smartphone interface. His shoulders straightened slightly, wings flicking back when he found something, and then his gaze lifted to scan their surroundings.

“Where’s… aha,” was mumbled under his breath. Target apparently acquired, Tim made his way swiftly across the room near the computer bay without another word, inspecting one of the machines there, trading his attention between whatever he found there and the phone. Jason, with nothing left to do and still half in a daze, followed behind after a few seconds.

He came to a stop next to Tim just in time to have the phone pushed into his unexpecting hands, forcing him to look down as he struggled not to drop it. His eyes caught on the familiar symbol that had now appeared, and he blinked. Looked up at a somewhat smug but also distinctly nervous Tim. Eyes flicking briefly over to the device Tim had been looking at, then back to Tim. The younger boy blushed slightly under the attention and kept his gaze noticeably tilted down, as if expecting a reprimand for some reason.

“WayneTech phones are all able to connect to and then make calls over Wifi no matter what, and I figured a set up like this had to have some sort of access to the internet, so…” he gestured vaguely towards the phone and router, flustered.

Well, Jason just had to hug him when he looked like that, his arms wrapping around Tim’s torso and arms and wings alike. This kid was way too adorable for his own good. And small. And crazy smart. Jason knew that much just from the day or so they knew each other. Where were this child’s parents, why weren’t they taking care of him properly?

“You little  _ genius _ ,” was all Jason said as he released his hold, if only to see how ruffled the kid could get under praise. The answer was very. “Come on, let’s go back upstairs for this call, I don’t know how long it’s going to take but I wanna sit down.”

Minutes later found them on the couch in the small lounge area, wings brushing (if only because couches weren’t really made with the appendages in mind). Jason stared at the screen and the familiar number it displayed, finger hovering over the call button. He had to mentally shake himself when he caught himself worrying. Chances are the Cave lockdown would have been initiated by B after contact with something dangerous- probably whoever caused the explosions. Alfred would  _ always _ answer when Jason needed him. There was no need to be stressed. He pressed the button to call, lifting the phone to his ear.

The short dialing tone and the first ring brought a wave of relief. Jason had been mildly worried that the call wouldn’t be able to get through for some reason, with how everything was going lately. All of the consecutive rings just brought the anxiety back as Jason desperately hoped that Alfred- or anyone, really- would pick up. 

On the fourth ring, the sound cut off early with a quiet click, followed with the achingly familiar, British voice that sent yet another wave of relief through Jason’s body. He wasn’t even aware of how noticeably he relaxed, or how Tim also relaxed in turn at the reassurance that things were going to be okay. He was just focused on the voice on the other end of the line.

“Wayne Manor,” was all Alfred said, and suddenly the world was just a little bit less of a mess. Jason sucked in a breath, resettling himself.

“Hey Alfie. It’s Jason,” was what he settled on.

“Master Jason!” came the response, distinctly more warm and with an edge of relief. “Thank goodness you’re alright, I was beginning to worry when you took so long to check in.”

“I’m alright,” Jason agreed quickly. “I just lost my Comm, and it took a bit to get to a safehouse. A little banged up maybe, and some… other stuff… but nothing too bad I’m pretty sure.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, the butler clearly having caught Jason’s attempt to brush over some of the details. 

“I take it that you were caught up in one of the explosions, then,” Alfred extrapolated. It wasn’t really a question. Jason winced, realizing that there was no getting away from that topic now.

_ It will be fine _ , Jason reminded himself fiercely as Tim blinked at him curiously  _ Alfred is safe _ . Jason wondered distantly if the kid's newly modified hearing was sharp enough that he could hear Alfred’s end of the conversation, or if he was only able to really follow Jason’s.

“Uh… yeah,” Jason agreed somewhat reluctantly, knowing that trying to work around it anymore was pointless. “How much do you, um, know about what’s going on?” Alfred sighed over the line, the sound barely picked up by the receiver.

“I’ve been trying to keep track of things over the news for the past two days, but some of the data is still largely speculative at this point. Are you feeling alright? What changes have you noticed?”

“I’m- wait, two days?” Jason sidetracked, derailed. Had he lost a day somewhere?

“Yes, Master Jason. Today is Friday,” Alfred confirmed. “The explosions took place between approximately 2am and 4am Thursday morning, ten detonations in all scattered around the more populous areas of Gotham. All of those within range of the blasts were near-instantly enclosed in what were later identified as some sort of chrysalis, for lack of better comparison. Alive and in some sort of coma-like state, though that's as far as anyone could tell from outside. The first wave of people emerged around six that evening, though from what has been said the majority emerged last night, and some into as late as this afternoon. There hasn’t been any particular explanation as to why some people took longer than others. I take it you were part of the later group, then?”

“I woke up this morning,” Jason agreed. “I didn’t even realize that I’d missed a whole day until now. Sorry I took so long, I guess?”

“As long as you’re alright in the long run that's the most important thing,” Alfred assured quickly. “Which brings me back to the earlier question. What changes have you noticed? That’s where the news is most indecisive.”

Jason opened his mouth to answer automatically, but then his gaze caught on Tim again. The kid’s eyes were wider than they were earlier. That confirmed that he could probably hear Alfred’s end of the conversation. Might as well loop him in properly, then. Timmy was smart, he might have noticed something that Jason hadn’t.

“Hold on for a sec, before we get into that…” Jason pulled the phone from his ear, turning up the volume a bit and setting the call to speakerphone quickly before he twisted around a bit to hold the device between them. “I ran into another lone kid who also got…  _ caught up _ in things a bit after I woke up. Do you remember Tim Drake? Or at least his parents, since I’m pretty sure they were at that Spring Gala Bruce dragged me to last month.”

“Jack and Janet Drake,” Tim said automatically at Jason’s glance, before he seemed to catch up with himself and became much more nervous. “Hello, Mr. Pennyworth.”

“Hello, Timothy,” Alfred said, voice betraying his surprise that Jason wasn’t alone, though he hid it well. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be caught up with all this, though I am glad that you and Master Jason ran into each other when you did. The city is very dangerous right now, especially for lone kids who were affected by the explosions.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Jason muttered a bit louder than intended. He bulldozed past the comment before Alfred could start asking questions about it. “Also, before the conversation starts getting awkward because you’re trying to work around certain facts, Timmy already knows that I’m Robin and that B and Dick are Batman and Nightwing. I didn’t tell him, he apparently knew already. The full explanation can wait for when we’re back home, but he hasn’t and wouldn’t tell anyone, and I’m vouching for him.”

Tim nodded quickly, even though Alfred couldn’t see them. “I’ve known for years, but no one else does, and I’ve never told anyone except Jason, and that was just because I knew that he knew, I promise.”

There was a bit of a pause that had Tim curling in on himself a bit more with nerves, worried about Alfred’s reaction. Jason knew Alfred well enough to know that the old butler was most likely just pushing back his blooming questions in the face of the obvious wobbling in Tim’s voice. Bruce might have requested to know more about the situation if he were listening, but for Alfred Jason’s assurance that everything was fine would be enough for now.

“Alright, that makes things a bit simpler. I assume you’re bringing young Timothy back to the Manor with you then, Master Jason?”

“Of course,” Jason scoffed. “I wouldn’t just ditch the kid. Anyways, you wanted to know what change’s we’ve noticed. What’ve you got so far, Timbo?”

They ran through things quickly. The physical stuff- wings, claws, tails, and other scattered spots of scales- were obvious, as was that the former three had some level of instinctual responses wired to their brains already that let them respond automatically to their mood and balance. It meant they weren’t stumbling around getting used to the changes, which was nice, though there was still a noticeable shift in balance that Jason predicted would take some adjustment when it came to things like fighting. Both boys mentioned the light sensitivity, and Tim pitched in that Jason’s eyes had seemed to be slightly reflective at some points, similar to a cat. They both agreed on the sensitivity to smell, particularly on the fact that both of them, and presumably the other affected as well, seemed to give off identifying scents that fluctuate to indicate identity and general mood. Tim also confirmed Jason’s suspicions about the extent of his hearing sensitivity, and also admitted, while blushing furiously, that he had noticed a slightly increased urge towards physical contact.

Jason had hugged him again after that, much to Tim’s embarrassment and Alfred’s silent amusement.

“Is that everything so far?” Alfred checked after the boys had properly settled down again. Jason suspected that he was taking notes.

“Yeah. Well, we were also really dehydrated and hungry when we woke up. That’s part of what took so long to get to the safehouse, we had to stop early on and get some food and water, and we both ended up taking a nap, too.”

“Alright,” Alfred said assuredly. “That pretty much lines up with what the majority seem to be reporting. For a while there, when you took so long to check in I was concerned that you- well, it doesn’t matter now.”

“That’s just the majority? What else are people saying?” There was a noticeable falter on Alfred’s end due to the question, like he hadn’t expected Jason to focus on the point or, more likely, had hoped that Jason wouldn’t ask. “It’s probably important that we know, Alfie. Please?”

“Yes, you’re right, Master Jason. You’d find out rather shortly anyways, in either case. From what I’ve gathered, most people who emerge from the Chrysalis are like you two, with more or less similar experiences. But a not insignificant minority of those in the blast range have apparently been altered even further, even more extensively. Again, there’s no apparent pattern as to why. For these individuals, their bodies are even more significantly transformed physically, with reported near-full body scale coverage among other things.”

Jason and Tim’s eyes widened at the description, gazes meeting in understanding as Alfred continued on with his explanation. That description sounded exactly like the thing they had fought off when they had first woken up. The question in Jason’s mind seemed to be reflected on Tim’s face.  _ That was a human, like them? They could have been like that? _

“Most worryingly is that their minds seem to be affected even more drastically. They apparently react instinctively and don’t respond to anyone verbally or otherwise. They just attack anything living they come across. Last night, when emergences began to spike, was particularly rough. The more drastically affected started to band together and roamed the streets in packs. The Commissioner managed to regain control of the Police force a few hours in, but there were many shots fired, not all just towards the more aggressive group of the affected. Things calmed significantly after sunrise, evidence that they must be mostly nocturnal, but there have still been sightings. You two have to be careful when you’re outside. Actually, with how late in the day it is now I’d suggest spending the night in the safehouse and driving back to the Manor tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Jason agreed quickly. “We’ve already had a couple close calls with what we suspect is one of those “more drastically affected” and some rich idiots with guns, so I am totally down with staying put for the night.”

“Goodness,” Alfred said, a bit startled. “Well, I am  _ very _ glad that you boys are alright. I can do some research and send you directions for the best route to get back to the Manor tomorrow morning. Gotham City is on a full lockdown, quarantined off from the outside world at the moment. Some of the streets are likely blocked or otherwise under observation. The military came in yesterday as backup for the GCPD and to contain whatever is happening here from the rest of the United States. They were initially worried that it could spread further, though there aren’t signs that anything is still contagious yet.”

“Does anyone know why it happened?” Tim piped up curiously.

“Nothing for sure yet,” Alfred reported. “The devices and level of effect they had indicated alien origin, though. Master Bruce has currently locked himself down in the Cave, so I don’t have any access to any Justice League resources that might have answers.”

Jason took the opportunity to ask his biggest lingering question.

“Is Bruce okay? I tried to call in over the Comm system first and the entire thing was locked down.”

“I don’t know for sure, honestly,” Alfred huffed, understandably annoyed at the situation. “The lockdown Master Bruce initiated makes it impossible for me to get in contact with him, and all the camera’s are shut off. He returned to the Cave last night and locked himself in before I could ask any questions. The limited access to Cave systems I still have confirms that his vitals are relatively stable and that he has been moving around. My guess is that he’s insisting on running an unnecessary amount of tests to make sure he’s safe and that I won’t be affected if he brought something back with him, though the level of lockdown was highly unnecessary. Hopefully by the time you two arrive tomorrow he’ll have deemed himself safe. Until then that’s all I can tell.”

“And Dick? He was still in Bludhaven when everything went down, right?”

“Indeed. I heard from Master Dick a couple of hours after the explosions went off, when the news started breaking outside of the city. He was understandably concerned, but last I heard was unable to reenter the city, even though the area surrounding the Manor is quite a ways away from the action. I believe he was going to try and ask the Justice League to help him get home, but I suspect it will be a while before they allow it. And before you ask, Miss Barbara reported that she had safely arrived at the Clocktower just shortly after the explosions started. I suspect she has simply settled in there until the communication channels are reopened.”

“Alright, thanks Alfie,” Jason said, looking down somewhat hopelessly at the phone and trying to not let his remaining worry leak into the words. Tim nudged him slightly, and the small assurance helped ground him. “I think that covers everything pressing, right? Timmy and I should get some more food and sleep before tomorrow morning. I’ll call again if something changes.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Alfred agreed reluctantly. “Take care, Master Jason, Timothy. I’ll be in touch. Keep each other safe, and contact me if anything changes.”

“You too, Alfie. Love ya,” Jason said warmly before ending the call. He stared down at the dark screen for a few moments before shaking himself out of his reflection. Glancing up at Tim revealed that the younger boy was also still deep in thought, likely overanalyzing all of the new information they had just received. Deciding a distraction was in order, Jason lightly flicked the kid’s nose.

“Come on, Timbo. Let’s see what food options the kitchen has stocked for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three cheers for Alfred, he's the best. He's given us so much worldbuilding knowledge! What do you guys think, any theories as to what's happening beyond what Alfred could glean from the news?


	4. Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey finally comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, this one took me a bit longer than expected, but here it is! I hope you all had a lovely New Year's Eve/Day. Welcome to 2021, we made it <3

This time when Tim woke up, he remembered the events of the previous day almost instantly. 

The first thing he noticed as he slipped towards consciousness was that he was warm, with a perfectly weighted blanket above him and a soft mattress below him. Tim’s first instinct was to burrow in as far as he could and stay here for years. Unfortunately, another sound and poke on his arm, much like the one that had first pulled him out of sleep, had him waking up further. He blinked his eyes open to find himself face to face with Jason, who was half sitting up and looking down on him with faint amusement.

Neither of them had been eager to split up into different rooms the previous night, so they had both settled in on the large master bed after dinner and some time exploring the contents of the lower floor where all the vigilante stuff was stored. Tim had been in awe of all the tech a secondary base like this had, having only expected to see basic equipment. Jason had been surprisingly willing to explain most of it, ever patient despite Tim’s many, many questions. Eventually Tim had gotten tired enough that Jason had dragged him away from the tech and up into bed, where he had promptly crashed for the night.

“Time to get up, Timbo,” Jason now declared, way too cheerful for how early it felt. “The sooner we get up, the sooner we can get to the Manor and figure out what to do about this whole mess.”

There was an underlying stress to Jason’s words and scent that Tim couldn’t pin down. It wasn’t like Tim could just directly ask about it so he just opted to ignore it. Just like he was ignoring the growing nerves at the thought of where he would be within a couple of hours. He was ignoring a lot of things at the moment, really.

“Alright, I’m up,” Tim grumbled, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Jason’s grin grew.

“Not a morning person, then,” Jason teased. “Luckily I’m used to that from B. Your little babybird glares mean nothing to me. Come on, we should eat something before we leave, I don’t know about you but I’m starving,” and with that, Jason easily hopped out of the bed, slipped on his shoes, and ducked out of the door, leaving Tim still blinking after him as he processed the new nickname.

_ Babybird _ ? These nicknames were just getting weirder and weirder.

Within a couple of minutes Tim was awake enough to follow Jason out from under the blessedly warm covers and into the slightly cooler air of the bedroom, struggling for a moment when the spikes on his tail managed to get caught in the blankets. Huffing at the stray limb, he eventually freed himself, shaking out his wings a bit to dispel the embarrassment. He was glad Jason hadn’t been there to watch that, Tim would have never heard the end of it.

By the time Tim had located his shoes and made it out to the kitchen area, Jason had already pulled out an array of dried fruits and granola bars and the like, and he was actively licking clean a spoon that, based on the nearby open container, had once held peanut butter. The two blinked at each other for a moment, both somewhat surprised. Tim had apparently managed to sneak up on the older boy.

“What,” Jason said after a second of awkward silence, ever so slightly embarrassed. He blinked, and then followed Tim’s gaze towards the spoon he was holding, blushing ever so slightly. “The peanut butter? There’s not a lot of options for protein, and it’s not like we have bread to put it on...” He suddenly straightened up slightly, tugging the open container a bit further from where Tim still stood at the hallway entrance. “Wait, crap, you’re not allergic, right?”

“No, you’re fine,” Tim said quickly, finally moving further into the room. “You just surprised me. I’ve never seen someone else just eat it out of the container before. My housekeeper caught me doing that once and got all offended that I wasn’t at least portioning it out first,” Tim huffed a bit in residual irritation at being scolded for that. He mumbled under his breath, “As if anyone else was around to eat any,” before suddenly remembering that Jason was still in the room and likely actually able to hear that part considering their newly-sensitive hearing.

Jason  _ had _ obviously noticed, but when Tim glanced up at him nervously his face was doing the carefully-not-reacting thing again, and his scent shift was subtle enough to be unreadable. All Tim got out of him was a mildly surprised blink before Jason turned his attention towards one of the drawers that apparently held the silverware considering he was suddenly handing Tim a spoon.

“We can both have some, then. Think of this as more of a snack, by the way. There’s no way Alfred won’t have already prepared something for us by the time we get to the Manor. He already texted the best travel route to the burner phone earlier, it shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

So the boys ate, and did a brief cleanup of all the areas that they had been in upstairs before heading back down to the lower floor. Jason appraised the vehicle options there, instantly bypassing the motorcycles as an option and decisively selecting the most inconspicuous of the cars, a grey SUV with darker-than-average windows. 

Tim self-indulgently let his eyes slide momentarily over to the distinctly faster looking modified sportscar and pair of bikes while Jason went to hunt down the key fob. He could understand that they were trying to  _ not _ grab attention right now, but also…

Behind Tim, Jason snorted slightly with amusement, making the smaller boy jump. He hadn’t noticed Jason coming back.

“Sorry Timmy, the goal isn’t to go fast and flashy this time. As soon as it’s safe I promise we can go out to the old airport where Bruce teaches us to drive and have some fun. Better yet, we can try and convince B to come and drive for us. He’d probably give in pretty fast with both of us asking, he has a weakness for cute kids.” 

Tim just blinked up at Jason for a second, trying to figure out if he was serious. All this stuff Jason was suggesting they do was starting to sound… a lot more long term than it should have. Wasn’t Jason just taking Tim with him so that he and Batman could ensure that his knowledge of their identities wasn’t a threat? Wasn’t he getting sent right back home as soon as all of this… alien craziness was fixed? Jason seemed so… genuine, though. More than his parents were when they made promises like this. And it’s not like he could tell  _ Robin  _ no… not that he wanted to.

“Yeah… that would be fun,” Tim settled on awkwardly, internally cursing that he couldn’t manage to come up with a better response. Too late now. Jason seemed satisfied by it at least, considering that he finally stopped looking at Tim and instead moved past him to pop open the drivers side door.

“Get your butt in the car, Timbuktu, we should get going if we want to get back in time to give a full report before lunch. Trust me, you don’t want to have to wait longer than necessary for Alfred’s food, it’s the best.”

Tim got in the car. Then he immediately had to get right out and back in again when Jason insisted that he was too short to sit in the front seat and he “won’t risk the wrath of Alfred, believe me it’s not worth it Timmy.” So Tim got relegated to the back seat. 

Which may have been for the best, all things considered, because they once again both failed to realize how much space having wings and tails took up. Mostly the wings, really. It turns out that cars were not designed with such things in mind, and as such it became very awkward to position themselves. Tim had the whole back seat to splay out over, so it wasn’t too bad, but Jason was stuck between the drivers door and the center console, and he had to make sure he could, like, drive the car. It led to him having to push the seat back some and a lot of fidgeting before Jason was satisfied enough to start the car.

Jason smoothly backed the SUV out, effectively putting Tim’s faintly lingering nerves about letting a 15 year old drive to rest. A wall to their right opened, letting the vehicle out into a wide alleyway before closing noiselessly behind them. And then they were on their way. Towards Wayne Manor. Because that was totally a normal thing now.

With nothing to hold his focus, no cell phone or book for distraction, the streets empty, and Jason focused on following the directions the navigation system was feeding him, Tim found his mind wandering to fill the silence.

Gotham was on the brink of falling apart, from what he could tell. Even more than usual. Random citizens being transformed against their will, some beyond just physically so, was another step above the normal Rogue plot. There was no protocol, no known cure to work off of. There were so many things they didn’t know about what had been done to them. Tim’s skin crawled thinking about the lack of knowledge about what was happening with even his own body. He didn’t know how to fix it.

His parents… were a  _ concern  _ if this dragged on for too long. They were certainly well out of the blast radius, all the way in China last he heard. No, the problem was how they would react if they learned that Tim had been caught up in the chaos. He had some time, since they were likely out of internet range and would take a while to learn of what had happened. By the time they called to check on him, it's possible the issue would be resolved, and they could stay none the wiser. 

But if it wasn’t… it would be bad. From what Mr. Pennyworth had said, Bristol, and therefore Drake Manor, wasn’t around any of the explosions. The only way he could explain having been caught up in one is to admit that he had gone out at night. And Tim’s parents weren’t supposed to  _ ever know _ that he snuck out at night. They would be furious at him. For risking himself. For damaging the Drake reputation, should anyone ever find out. For daring to even  _ think  _ of doing anything but what he was told.

They might have never hit him before, but if they heard about this he honestly might not blame them for it. He had never disobeyed this badly. Whatever happened next, it was his fault.

Would they come back to Gotham, once they were allowed to? Most likely, since there would be a lot of damage control to do for the company and city. Tim would have been happy about that outcome, if some of the damage control didn’t include his actions. They might end up hiring more people to keep an eye on him, increase security on and around the house to make it harder for him to get away unsupervised. Maybe put him in homeschooling to limit his time out of the house even further. Or worse, they could finally act on their threats to ship him off to some sort of boarding school outside of Gotham.

Tim couldn’t leave Gotham! Everything he knew was here! His few, precious friends from school. His precious secret nights following Batman and Robin. The best memories of his childhood were scattered around the rooftops of this city, it was a part of him. Leaving the city would be like losing a part of himself. He had held off the inevitable for this long by convincing his parents that he was responsible enough to function on his own, but if the media caught wind of the fact that he had been in range of one of the explosions that would be the end of his Gotham excursions.

Of course… he might be less than an hour away from getting banned from the streets anyways. He had managed almost three and a half years of following the Bats without getting caught, but this too was inevitable. Jason knew about him, he knew that Tim knew who they were. They were literally on their way to Wayne Manor, where he would be face to face with Bruce Wayne, the Batman himself. 

There’s no way that Batman would be pleased to learn that there was a kid running around the streets who knew their identities and was essentially stalking him and his partners. Tim was probably about to be banned from going out anymore, his pictures confiscated, and put under close monitoring. That is, if Batman didn’t just ask someone in the Justice League to wipe his memories. Wasn’t at least one of them rumored to have that power? Would it even work, with how long Tim had known and how ingrained the knowledge was in his life ever since? 

If he did lose those memories, at that point he might as well just let his parents send him to boarding school anyways. There would be nothing left for him here without the Bats.

“Hey Timbo, you alright back there?” Jason asked, effectively cutting through Tim’s turbulent thoughts. 

“I’m fine,” Tim answered automatically, before he had even processed the tone in Jason’s voice. Before it dawned on him that he was in a car with  _ Robin _ , and that his scent was probably broadcasting all sorts of weird emotions considering where his thoughts went. His usual nonchalant attitude wouldn’t work here.

Tim’s eyes flicked up quickly to meet Jason’s in the rear view mirror before cutting away to look out the tinted windows. They had left the Bowery, Tim realized, and were now somewhere in Burnely. Most likely Jason was bringing them towards one of Batman’s secret tunnels Tim had theorized about to get them across the river and into Bristol. Jason had mentioned before that Alfred had reported that traffic on the Kane Memorial Bridge was being monitored. It was better not to risk getting stopped.

“Want to try that again?” Jason prompted pointedly. He wasn’t letting Tim go without an answer, then.

“It’s just… all a lot to process,” Tim settled on. “A couple of days ago everything was normal, and now here I am in a car with Robin, we both got transformed by some alien- _ something _ , and you’re taking me to meet Batman. It’s… a lot.”

“Yeah, I getcha kid,” Jason agreed as he carefully directed the car into a right turn. “Honestly even after a couple of years of doing this, it’s still weird for me too. There’s no such thing as normal in Gotham, and being involved with the Masks just makes it worse. You’re handling everything really well, though. It’s okay to be scared sometimes. I promise nothing is going to hurt you on my watch, alright?”

“Okay,” Tim said simply, eyes still firmly pointed out the window. It was easier than letting Jason see the myriad of emotions that he no doubt failed to hide after that statement. The lack of control over the pheromones he was unintentionally broadcasting was bad enough.

It was quiet for a while, neither boy sure how to continue the conversation from there. Burnely gave way to Newtown in Tim’s mental map of the city. The change in burrough brought with it an ever so slight but nonetheless unexpected uptick in traffic. A tightly clumped and quickly moving group of people here, a single car passing them on the road there. People here were still cautious, but the effects of Gotham’s latest assault were  _ just _ far away enough for the occasional person to venture out as needed. Their confidence was likely bolstered by the scattered presence of GCPD cruisers and not-so-inconspicuous undercover vehicles.

The presence of people around them made Tim nervous. Judging by Jason’s slightly tighter grip on the steering wheel and the shift in his scent Tim assumed that the older boy felt the same. He was suddenly very thankful that they had taken the car with tinted windows, his mind plagued with thoughts of what would happen if someone happened to catch a glimpse of scales through the glass.

After they tensely finished passing by some sort of armored vehicle that had no business on a normal street, Tim became jarringly aware of the clawed fingers biting into his palms. He had to force his claws to retract, hands to unclench, palms to rest shakily on his thighs as his wings fought the seat to tuck in just a bit tighter. At this rate getting to the Manor might actually be a  _ relief  _ despite everything.

“We should come up with a name for you,” Jason blurted suddenly, completely out of nowhere.

“I- what?” Tim managed to stutter out after a few seconds of rebooting, because  _ what _ ?

“I mean, like a codename. A vigilante name,” Jason clarified, as if that made what he suggested make any more sense. “Like Robin or Nightwing or Batman. It probably should be something bird themed, considering we’ve got a bit of an aesthetic going.”

Cue another few seconds of Tim trying to force his brain to do something other than blue screen.

“A… why?” he choked out somehow. Jason’s eyes met Tim’s in the mirror again, the blatant concern there softening into a sort of understanding that did weird things to Tim’s chest. The scent Jason was letting off shifted suddenly towards something comforting, and Tim’s growing tension drained away almost against his will.

“Well I mean, you already know our identities and everything, that's sort of the biggest hurdle in working with the Bats. And I already told you that B and Alfred and Dick are going to like you basically immediately, little genius that you are.”

“I don’t-” was all Tim managed to stutter out before Jason cut him off.

“Nope, they’ll definitely like you. I mean, it might take B a tad longer just because he’ll be internally screaming about the fact that his best kept secret got cracked by a kid years ago without him knowing- a kid who proceeded to stalk him across Gotham with a camera without being caught- but he’ll be more impressed than mad really. And Dick is probably going to be trying to hug you like the human octopus he is as soon as he realizes we’re friends now.” That last part was said in a tone that Tim thought was intended to be a joke, probably a distraction from the latest passing car, but Tim got caught up on the word choice Jason used.

“You… we’re friends?” Tim squeaked, a whole octave higher than his usual voice. Jason’s eyes flickered to meet his in the mirror again, though this time it wasn’t just Tim who was flustered.

“I mean… yeah, I’d like to think so. I don’t just take any kid I meet on the street back to the Manor after having an extended adventure through Gotham with them. Friends, partners, whatever you want to call it. I was looking forward to having another person close to my age around the Manor, even if it’s just while this whole  _ thing _ is being fixed. And I’d like it if you agreed to visit after that. You’re smart, you could help Alfred in the Cave sometimes. Or we could bother B until he agrees to train you. You could also just stay out of the vigilante stuff altogether, if you preferred, but I kind of figured you’d want in with the stalking and everything.”

“I… I could really…”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not! Well, if you’re aiming to be on the streets that won’t happen until B agrees you’re trained enough, but Alfred and Dick will almost for sure back us up on you helping in the Cave. I have a suspicion that Alfred gets lonely sometimes, not that he’d say anything. And if you’re going to help out, we should have something to call you, right?”

“I… Yeah, I mean yes. Let's do that,” Tim managed, his brain finally managing to stop lagging from the shock so that he could actually, you know, hold a proper conversation. He was trained better than this! Tim didn’t know for  _ sure  _ that Jason wasn’t inflating the likelihood of Tim actually getting to help the city’s vigilante’s, but… it didn’t hurt to hope that Jason was right, and Tim didn’t want to just say no if there was an actual chance. So Tim made a leap of faith.

“Do you have any ideas then? For my codename?” Tim asked, still a tad unsure. Jason grinned.

“Some sort of bird would fit the theme we have going best. Do you have any species you like?”

As Jason said that, he carefully turned off the main road and into what looked like a dead end. Of course, these were the Bats, and so naturally yet another hidden door opened, a paved ramp down to what appeared to be a long, straight tunnel. The emergency lights lining the wall were dim enough that the car’s automatic headlights turned on, but Jason seemed totally familiar and comfortable with the drive. This was definitely one of the tunnels they used regularly to get into Gotham without anyone knowing, then. Tim was almost positive there had to be more than one.

“Um…” Tim refocused on the task at hand when Jason raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “I don’t know. Something like Owl or Hawk, maybe? Or Magpie, if you want it to be kind of an inside joke.” Jason’s laugh at Tim’s little shot at humor did almost as much to help him relax as getting off of the populated streets did. The car’s atmosphere had gone from tense to relaxed in a matter of minutes.

“Magpie would be great, but unfortunately that name is already claimed by some criminal. I don’t remember exactly what her deal was, some sort of thief I think, but I definitely remember seeing something about her in the database once.”

“I guess it does kind of work better for a villain name,” Tim conceded.

“Yeah, so that’s out. And I don’t really think you should go for anything like Owl or Hawk either,” Jason said easily, as if it was obvious. Tim’s eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, if  _ I’m _ stuck with  _ Robin _ , I don’t see why you should get away with being some sort of scarier sounding bird of prey. You’re a baby bird! If my namesake is an unintimidating songbird, you have to be something in a similar vein. Plus, it helps a lot with the underestimation factor, believe it or not. So yeah, you should pick something else.”

“Fine, fine,” Tim agreed, not sure whether to be intimidated or warmed by how seriously Jason was taking this. He was left scrambling to think of something else. After a few seconds, Tim was forced to admit defeat. “I don’t really know that many bird names. I can’t think of anything.”

“Totally understandable,” Jason reassured quickly. “Luckily for you, I happen to have an older brother who revels in making bird puns whenever possible, so I’ve picked up on a lot of stuff. Hmm… Chickadee? That could work, they’re cute little things.”

“No,” Tim said quickly, calming down after he got a good enough look at Jason’s expression and the faint amusement in his scent to know that he was joking. At least mostly. “I’m definitely not allowing that one.”

“Yeah, that’s fair, I figured,” Jason admitted easily rather than pushing. Tim appreciated that. “More seriously this time, what about something like Starling? Or maybe Wren?” 

These two Tim actually had to take a second to think over properly, testing out the sound of the name, the connotations he got. Neither of them were a bad choice really. Starlings were bigger, if he remembered right, and they were a bit more of a commonly thought of bird, but the name was longer. Shortening it to Star just made him think of the city, and ‘ling was just… eh, Tim wasn’t sure.

Wren on the other hand… it was short, fairly easy to say quickly if needed. The pictures of birds that came to mind were mostly shades of brown with minimal black or white accents, but if Tim ever managed to design a suit for that name it would be easy to mix in more black, or a dark grey, just use the browns on the inside of the cape and the body, and either white or maybe yellow for the accents… 

Wow. He was getting way ahead of himself here. He hadn’t even actually met Batman yet, let alone got approval to join the crusade. He couldn’t start thinking that far ahead when the idea still seemed like an impossibility. But the chance of actually getting to use the name wasn’t really the point here, was it? 

“I like Wren,” Tim announced after a few moments where Jason had focused on driving and left him to his thoughts. “Let’s go with that, I guess.”

“Sweet!” Jason exclaimed happily. “Robin and Wren, partners in stopping crime. It has a nice ring to it, I think.”

“Yeah,” Tim agreed, still not entirely sure what the point of all that was.

The timing worked out well, apparently, because just as the discussion wrapped itself up the car reached an incline, and suddenly the tunnel was opening up to spit them out on a road that Tim actually recognized. They were in Bristol, just a couple of miles away from the boundary of Drake Manor. Or, more importantly in this case, from Wayne Manor. 

From there it was just a short drive down the road before they had reached the telltale wrought iron gates. Jason had to roll down his door’s window all the way and then struggled for a bit to shift his wings positioning and twist his body around in order to reach the call button.

“Alfred?” he called out once he had managed the feat. “It’s Jason and Tim. Can you let us in?” It was only a few seconds later that the speaker crackled to life, the now vaguely familiar British voice emanating loudly enough for Tim to hear it from the back seat.

“Welcome back Young Masters. Bring that car into the garage, Master Jason. Master Bruce and I await your presence in the kitchen.”

“Bruce is out of the cave?” Jason asked, surprised. His scent unexpectedly spiked with something complex enough that Tim couldn’t really put a name to the emotion, some sort of mix between happiness and nerves. But the question went unanswered as the speaker system clicked off and the gate started to swing open. The scent disappeared before Tim could really think too much on it, dispersed with the wind from the still-open window as the car pulled further up the drive.

The winding road from the gate to the Manor was traversed in silence, neither boy trying to continue the earlier conversation as the green grounds flashed by. Soon enough the walls of the Manor towered above the trees, quickly drawing Tim’s attention. He had never been here before, though he knew his parents had. It was larger than he imagined, certainly larger than Drake Manor, and was of noticeably older architecture.

Jason easily pulled the car up to the large garage connected to the side of the building, the structure blending into the façade perfectly despite the fact that it was likely built decades after the main bulk of the Manor. The door slid up easily as they approached, either already keyed to the car somehow or triggered by someone inside. Bruce Wayne’s many civilian vehicles were dispersed throughout the room in front of them, with many spaces left open for future acquisitions by the eccentric billionaire. Their SUV easily slid into one of the open spaces near the front of the garage before Jason shifted into park and turned the engine off.

Tim fidgeted a bit where he sat as the car fell silent, waiting for Jason to make the first move to disembark. He was a guest here, and the anxiety at the situation had picked up as soon as the house had come into view, slowly compounding until now. He wasn’t sure what to do, he didn’t know the rules in this new place. So he waited for Jason to point him in the right direction, just in case.

The older boy didn’t take long. After only a split second where his hands tightened ever so slightly on the wheel, Jason twisted around, awkwardly due to the wings, to grin at Tim reassuringly.

“Let’s go Timbo, nothing to worry about. Robin and Wren, right?”

“Right,” Tim echoed weakly. “No big deal.”

What followed that was a minute or so of awkward shuffling on both boys’ parts to get all of their limbs clear of the vehicle so that they could shut the door behind them. Jason went as far as to lock the car, despite the fact that they were currently in a private garage on one of the most secure properties in the world. The little  _ beep _ the car let off made Tim jump a bit despite himself. In the enclosed space, with their hearing as modified as it was, the sound was louder than he had expected.

Tim half-jumped again when Jason’s hand somehow found his, fingers intertwined with a light squeeze before he pulled him towards the door that would lead into the main part of the house. Relaxing slightly at the touch, Tim found himself following the silent direction easily, trying to keep his brain focused on the task ahead. You should have a plan when about to confront Batman, right? He really should have thought of a plan. Was it too late now?

He was only distantly aware of Jason reaching to slide the key fob onto a hook beside the other vehicles’ keys, his awareness not properly snapping back into focus until they had passed through the threshold between the garage and the Manor. The door closing behind them, as soft as it was, felt damning. There was definitely no backing out now. For better or worse, he was inside the Bat’s domain.

Jason led the way through the house, familiarly traversing through hallways along the relatively short path towards the kitchen. Tim trailed after him, wide-eyed at his surroundings. Wayne Manor felt entirely different than what he was used to. The power and the influence of the halls was more subtle, not like the plain, sharp colors and spotless displays the Drake’s favored. This house was warmer, more welcoming in Tim’s mind. 

The final room they passed through, a living room featuring all the seating space and television equipment such a space entailed, was noticeably lived in. The couches were comfortable looking and slightly worn in, the collection of movie disks in mild disarray, remotes askew on the coffee table. Tim’s mother would have never allowed it. The evidence of use, the proof that people spent time there regularly, sent a pang through Tim’s chest. But he couldn’t really understand why.

Wooden flooring transitions into tile as they pass through the doorless threshold between the living room and kitchen. Jason froze without warning just a few steps through the door, and Tim almost ran into his back before he noticed the sudden halt. Tim automatically started scanning for what had caused Jason to startle.

On the other side of a long countertop was a distinctly well dressed, heavily greying man who could only be Alfred Pennyworth. A large pot sat beyond him on the stovetop, steam rising and wafting the mouth-watering scent of some sort of stew across the room. The man himself turned to face them as they entered, a subtle but nonetheless warm smile in place as he called a quiet welcome. 

The part of Tim’s mind that was raised to always uphold proper manners reminded Tim that such a greeting should not go unanswered, but almost as soon as that thought had occurred Tim’s brain processed another instance of movement from a different direction. His eyes flicked to the other side of the room to lock onto the other figure there. The person who had taken hold of Jason’s rapt attention as soon as they stepped into the room.

Bruce Wayne rose carefully from his seat at the kitchen counter. He halted his approach after only a couple of steps when neither of the boys responded to the greeting or moved further into the room.  _ He’s really big _ was the first thing that managed to process in Tim’s brain as he got his first close look at the man behind the Batman cowl. Considering both his height and muscle Mr. Wayne cut an intimidating figure, even when dressed in casual clothing.

The bulk was only accentuated by the voluminous, black scaled wings fitted seamlessly against his back, the top arch reaching almost to the top of his head and lowest tip falling somewhere along the man’s lower thigh. Strikingly blue, analytic eyes studied the boys from across the open space, appearing all the brighter for the dark scales also scattered across his visible skin, the rest hidden below the sweatpants and t-shirt he wore. The final surprise was the midnight-toned tail that trailed behind him, twitching ever so slightly even as the rest of the man stood still and observed them blankly.

Oh.  _ Oh _ .

All the little clues that Tim had been given without his notice clicked into place. Judging by the unnatural stillness and flattening of emotion from Jason’s scent, the older boy was likely undergoing a similar revelation. It was when a new scent,  _ Mr. Wayne’s  _ scent, drifted over, a mix of muted  _ happy-concern-protect _ tones, that Tim managed to snap out of the shock and fully process what had happened. 

Of  _ course _ Batman would have been close enough to one of the blasts that he had been affected as well. Really, Tim shouldn’t have expected anything else. A foolish mistake, really. Batman’s tendency to succeed where others would fail had its limits.

“Jaylad?” Mr. Wayne called quietly, eyes focused mostly on his son even as he cast a brief appraising glance towards Tim where he lingered a bit further behind. “Are you alright, son?”

That voice was the trigger to release Jason from his shock, and the older boy was suddenly rocketing across the space and throwing his arms around his father, crimson wings flared behind him. “B. Bruce. Dad,” was said with Jason’s face pressed into the older man’s chest, Mr. Wayne’s arms coming up a beat late to wrap around Jason. The man hadn’t expected this reaction, then. 

“You’re alright Jay,” was said reassuringly as Mr. Wayne gently ran a hand through Jason’s hair. All the hints of mild anxiety that Tim had been reading from Jason throughout the morning had vanished, he realized then. Striking blue eyes again glanced towards Tim, who was watching the display with wide eyes from where he still stood just inside the entrance to the room, as Mr. Wayne continued. “You did good to get here safely, and you were taking care of your friend too, right?”

“Shit, Tim!” Jason yelped at the reminder. He quickly slipped out of Mr. Wayne’s hold and darted back across to where Tim was lingering, only waving a hand in acknowledgement of Mr. Pennyworth’s mild warning of “Language, Master Jason,” as he single mindedly wrapped a hand around Tim’s wrist and tugged him towards where Mr. Wayne stood. The man beneath the cowl radiated amusement and mild curiosity, maybe a bit of confusion as he watched the pair interact.

_ He’s not mad, _ Tim tried to point out to his racing pulse as he anxiously allowed Jason to lead him across the room.  _ I’d be able to tell if he was mad. Probably. And Jason is relaxed, so it should be fine. Right? _

“Bruce, this is Tim Drake. Timmy, Bruce,” Jason introduced promptly, pushing Tim forward despite the fact that Tim’s entire being was urging him to keep the older boy in front of him as a buffer.

“Tim,” Mr. Wayne echoed in that deep voice, his tone resting somewhere between Brucie and Batman. “It’s nice to meet you. Alfred has told me a bit about you already.”

Mr. Wayne’s hand came up and out, resting in between them and waiting. It took a nudge from Jason before it dawned on Tim that he was supposed to shake it. The man’s palm was warm where it met Tim’s, rough in a couple of places from calluses and almost unnoticeable scaring. His fingers wrapped easily around Tim’s significantly smaller hand, firm but not overly restraining.

“So,” Mr. Wayne continued as he released Tim’s hand from his grip. His voice deepened and took on ever so slightly more of a gravely tone, presence shifting from welcoming into seriousness. “What gave us away, Tim? How did you figure it out?”

“Um…” Tim squeaked, face burning red with nerves and embarrassment, stumbling a bit over his words as he tried to mentally sort out what to say. Jason’s hand wrapped lightly around Tim’s wrist again, grounding him.

“Not mad, remember?” Jason assured quietly as both of the older men in the room watched curiously.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim mumbled, mostly to himself. He took a deep breath, forced his shoulders back like he had been so carefully taught since birth, and he explained his biggest secret for the second time in as many days. “My parents took me to the circus once, when I was younger. I actually, um, met Dick that night, technically. Our families took a picture together, and he promised to ‘do a quad flip just for me’. It was his family’s signature move, I learned. And then later that night, well…”

“You were there the night of the accident,” Mr. Wayne extrapolated, subtly encouraging despite obviously not yet seeing the connection Tim was trying to make. 

“Yeah, I was there for that,” Tim admitted with a wince. “It was terrible, I had nightmares for months afterwards. I can still remember it clearly, even with how young I was. It’s one of my earliest strong memories, really.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Mr. Wayne said gently when Tim trailed off into thought. Jason’s hand around Tim’s wrist tightened ever so slightly in his own reassurance.

“It’s fine, it’s not like it was your fault,” Tim insisted quickly. “Anyways, you know most of the story from there. You took Dick in as your ward and later adopted him. Sometime around then, though it took a while to really catch on, Batman gained a young sidekick. Not that I made the connection just from that, obviously. No one did. But it  _ did  _ matter to me, because I was kind of, um… a bit obsessed with following the news of the city’s vigilantes. Like a lot of kids my age, really. So I paid attention to all the news features that managed to catch video of you guys.

“And then one day, a news camera recording a fight managed to catch a video of Robin doing a quadruple flip. The Flying Grayson’s signature move. And from there all the little clues about appearances and funding and such fell into place for me. It was random luck, really.”

“Smart kid,” Mr. Wayne said quietly after a moment of contemplation, causing Jason to snicker slightly as Tim blushed. “No one without the specific knowledge about that move would be able to make that connection, luckily. I’ll have to talk to Dick about it later, though. And maybe later I’ll see if I can hunt down that particular clip and erase it, though I doubt that will make a difference this many years down the line. You never told anyone, correct?”

“No, I promise!” Tim said quickly. “I know what sort of danger that would have created, both for you guys and me. You, um. You guys are heroes. I wouldn’t risk that. Gotham needs you.”

“You mentioned you were taking pictures,” Jason cut in. “When did that start?”

Mr. Wayne looked between them, out of the loop again. “Pictures?”

“Um, around half a year after I figured out who you were, I think? I caught the very end of Dick being Robin, and then when Jason started. Getting the sort of insider information I did kind of fueled my vigilante obsession. I started getting frustrated about the lack of pictures and video of you guys at night, and then I got a camera and darkroom for my birthday. At some point I just realized that I could try and get my own pictures with a bit of planning and effort. So I snuck out of my house one night and started trying to figure out where your patrols were.”

“Your parents never noticed you were leaving the house?” Mr. Wayne asked, a weird tension underlying his voice and scent now. On the other side of the room, Mr. Pennyworth had paused his task of dishing out bowls of stew. Tim figured they understandably didn’t like the idea of Batman being stalked by a kid.

“They’re out of town a lot. There’s lots of international meetings for Drake Industries, you know? And they both like archeology, so sometimes they’ll take a few months and go out on a dig. I’m twelve, old enough to take care of myself, I’m careful. The housekeeper comes by a couple times a week to check on me and bring food, and there are people hired to get me to school and bring food and stuff. As long as I don’t do anything to draw attention no one cares what I do with my free time.”

“Hmm,” Mr. Wayne said contemplatively, shooting Jason a glance. The older boy just raised a silent eyebrow back, still stubbornly maintaining the grip on Tim’s wrist. Mr. Wayne relaxed a bit, apparently having settled something. “Are the pictures stored at your house, then?”

“Yeah. Everything is taken on film. I develop everything myself and destroy the negatives after. The pictures themselves are in a double-locked box under a loose floorboard in my room. I know it’s kind of dangerous to have them at all, but I…” Tim wasn’t sure how to finish that.  _ ‘I like taking pictures to stave off the sadness from my parents leaving me alone, even though I know I have basically unlimited funding at my fingertips and therefore have no real reason to complain?’ _ No, he couldn’t say that. Luckily, no one pushed him to finish, as Mr. Wayne was currently focused elsewhere.

“Well, it’s not like you’re the only one in the city who’s managed to photograph us, and it sounds like you're careful so I’m not overly concerned about you having them. Though I would feel better if you would let us hold them here for safekeeping just to be safe. You can just come over whenever you want access to them. Actually...” Mr. Wayne’s brow furrowed further in thought. “Your parents are out of town right now, correct?” Tim nodded quickly.

“Yeah, they’re at some new site somewhere in China, I don’t remember the name” Tim confirmed. Mr. Wayne nodded slowly, looking again at Jason and then briefly back at Mr. Pennyworth before focusing again on Tim.

“In that case, I would feel a lot better if you could stay with us here at the Manor, Tim. At least for a little while, until the city calms down again. We can go pick up some of your things from your house later today and set you up in the empty room next to Jason's. This way we’ll know you’re safe, and you can know what's happening firsthand.” Did he just… Tim stared up at Mr. Wayne’s face for a second, sure that he must have misheard the man.

“You want me to stay here?” he questioned carefully, voice just a tad too strained to play off as casual. Mr. Wayne just nodded confirmation, watching Tim’s face with an unreadable, though still distinctly warm, expression. Still unsure if he was allowed to actually say yes, Tim glanced over at Jason, who was smiling, then over at Mr. Pennyworth, who responded to Tim’s searching gaze with a small inspection and nod of his own as he finished preparing their lunch. So Tim turned back to Mr. Wayne.

“I… I guess that’s fine,” Tim decided quietly. 

He still half expected to be rebuked for admitting to wanting help, but all Mr. Wayne did at the announcement was lightly pat the top of Tim’s head. Jason briefly abandoned his hold on Tim’s wrist in favor of wrapping both arms around Tim’s chest and squeezing until he squeaked. Then Jason released his hold and darted over to the counter where lunch was waiting for them.

“Come on Bruce, Timmy. Food now, figure out the details of Tim’s stay and compare notes later. I know you two must be just as starving as I am.”

“It’s likely our metabolism has been affected along with all the other changes,” Mr. Wayne agreed indirectly. He looked down at Tim with a small smile now, and stretched out a hand towards him. “Come on, Tim. Let’s go join them, yeah?”

Just like the first time Mr. Wayne had offered, Tim took a moment to study the offered hand, assessing the situation. After a few seconds of hesitance, where Mr. Wayne waited patiently for the boy to make the first move, Tim finally reached out to accept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim: *walks into the Manor kitchen with Jason*  
> Bruce: "Ah yes, a new child"  
> Jason: "Mission acquire-a-little-brother is a success!"  
> Alfred: *fond amusement*  
> Dick, somewhere in Bludhaven probably: "... my big brother senses are tingling"
> 
> And that's the end for this installment of the WMUH universe! There will probably be a bit of a break as I take some time to focus on my Lazarus!Tim series for a bit and think about where exactly I want to take this. As you all can probably tell, there are a lot of pieces in this universe, a lot of directions things could go. If you have anything you are really curious about, now is the time to ask, I might just deliver.
> 
> Until next time *tips hat*

**Author's Note:**

> I've already written through chapter 3, so I should be posting at least once a week until this is done. What do you guys think so far? Anything you really want to see? Any burning questions?


End file.
